Blind Fools
by tortallanrider
Summary: Sequel to "Lady Alanna." - "You grew up so fast, Jasson. I was still being a kid and doing kid things and you had all these duties. You left me behind."
1. Chapter 1

**ONE**

**June 441**

Jonathan of Conté paced the hall outside his parents' bedroom, focusing on the floor in front of his feet rather than the eerie silence in the room. From his experience, silence was rarely a good thing. He bit down hard on the inside of his lip. His wife of three years raced down the hall, pretty face worried. "Any news?" she asked, gently touching his arm. He shook his head, stepping into her arms. She wrapped her arms around him.

The door opened, revealing a tired looking Duke Baird of Queenscove. Thayet looked at him with expectant hazel eyes. He shook his head sadly. "Your Highness?" Jonathan's blue eyes slowly focused on the royal healer. Thayet seized his hand and squeezed it tightly. He swallowed hard and walked into the room to say goodbye.

* * *

"Her immune system hasn't been strong for years," Gareth of Naxen murmured. Jonathan's friends gathered in his and Thayet's rooms to comfort the princess. The prince had yet to return. "We all knew it would happen soon."

"But you never know when soon _is_," Alanna of Goldenlake pointed out. "And, even so, that can hardly be any comfort now."

"Nothing is any comfort," Thayet said, eyes on the floor in front of her feet. Everyone's attention turned to her. Three months after her wedding to Jonathan, word came her mother had committed suicide. "Jon and the queen were close. He's going to be devastated."

"Think of the king," Raoul put in. "A blind fool could see how in love they were." Everyone fell silent, remembering the king's loving gaze. Everyone jumped to their feet as the door opened. Jonathan walked in slowly, collapsing into a chair, shielding his face with his hand. His friends exchanged glances, unsure of what to say or do.

"Jon?" Thayet asked gently, touching the arm of his chair. "How are you?" His shoulders began to shake. He gasped for air as sobs wracked his body. Thayet immediately rose to wrap her arms around him, allowing him to bury his face in her chest. "You should go," she told their gathered friends. They nodded, filing grimly from the room.

**December 445**

"Come on, Jasson!" Mara of Goldenlake called, running through the halls of the Royal Palace. "Stop being suck a slowpoke!"

"The snow isn't gonna go _away_!" Jasson of Conté whined, slowing to a walk. "And I'm _not_ slow!"

"Are so!"

"Are not!" Tired of being shown up by a girl, Jasson began to sprint as fast as his five-year-old legs would take him, soon catching up to Mara. "See?" He smiled triumphantly at her. "Told you I'm not slow." Panting, they both slowed to a walk, nearing their destination. Jasson knocked softly at the door to his father's private study.

"Yes?" the king called. "Who is it?"

"Father?" Jasson poked his head in. "Can Mara and I go play in the snow?"

"Hi Uncle Jon!" Mara called. Jasson turned to give her a hard look. She rolled her eyes.

Jonathan chuckled. "Come in, come in." The children walked in. The king sat behind his desk, piled high with papers. The chairs across from him were occupied by Gareth of Naxen, his friend and adviser, and Myles of Olau, the spymaster.

"Hi!" Mara repeated, grinning and waving at the three men, all of who were close family friends. She turned her violet eyes to her godsfather and adoptive uncle. "Can we please go play in the snow? We promise to be careful."

"What did your parents say?" Jonathan asked the girl, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk.

"I couldn't find them." Mara shrugged. "I think mama went for a ride with Aunt Thayet, and…" Her voice drifted off. As Knight Commander of the King's Own, Raoul of Goldenlake often went off, leaving his wife and daughter at the palace. "But if you say it's okay…"

Jonathan glanced at his friends, blue eyes dancing. "Should we let them play in the snow?" he asked.

"I don't know," Gary said, smoothing his moustache. He turned his brown eyes to the children. "Have you been behaving in your lessons?"

"Yes," Mara answered, rolling her eyes. "_Please_ can we go? Look how much snow there is!" She gestured at the window.

"We can find something else to do otherwise," Jasson cut in.

"No we can't!" She glared at him. "Whose side are you on here?"

"There are no sides," Jonathan told the girl. "I'm with you. Go play in the snow, but stay nearby. And take someone with you."

"Come on," Mara said, beginning to leave. "I think I know where we can find Uncle George."

**October 450**

"I never see you anymore," Mara said, cornering Jasson outside the dining hall.

"I'm _hungry_," the Prince told her. "Are you going to keep me long?"

She rolled her eyes. "I thought you'd try to save some time for your best friend."

"You try being a page, and then let me know how easy you think it is." He sighed. "Are you just here to yell at me about how I don't spend enough time with you? Take it up with Lord Wyldon."

"Maybe I will."

"You do that. Let me know how it goes. Speaking of going, will you let me eat now?"

Mara sighed and moved. "Fine. Go. But I want to see you more!"

"Come to the library. You can help us with our work."

"Why would I want to do _more_ schoolwork?"

"Because it's important?"

"If you aren't smart enough to figure it out without a girl's help, maybe you shouldn't be in knight training."

"I'm leaving now." Mara watched him go, arms folded over her chest. Ever since he'd started his training the month before, she rarely saw her best friend. And, when she did, he was always too tired to go on adventures. She thought he would be bolder once he knew more, but the training only seemed to make him more cautious. She looked into the mess hall, checking out the pages and squires. Eight years before, Jonathan and Thayet decreed that girls could try for their shields – Mara knew this was due at least in part to her own mother's onetime desire to be a lady knight. Alanna hoped her daughter would lead the life she never had and try for her shield, but Mara wanted to follow her Uncle Thom and become a mage. She planned to study at the Royal University, even if it meant waiting an extra four years.

"Can I help you?" Mara looked up into the eyes of the training master, Wyldon of Cavall.

Mara curtsied. "No, my lord. I had just stopped by to talk to J—His Highness."

"Ah." The man nodded. "Do you still need to speak to him?"

"No, my lord. But thank you." She curtsied again. "Have a good meal." She scurried off. Lord Wyldon intimidated her. He was a formidable man, and opposed to many of the changes Jonathan and Thayet had made since taking their throne nine years before.

Mara found her way to the hall where her family ate dinner. Unlike his father, Jonathan preferred to eat in peace. His family, close friends, and advisers joined him for dinner each evening. As Knight Commander, Raoul of Goldenlake was included in that bunch. When he was away, Mara and her mother joined them, Alanna and the queen being such close friends. "You're late," Alanna murmured as Mara slid into her seat.

"Sorry," the girl whispered back. "I went to go see Jasson."

"Did you have a nice chat?" Alanna asked, knowing her daughter missed her old friend.

Mara shrugged, smoothing with the napkin in her lap. "He was too busy to talk."

Alanna patted her back sympathetically. "We'll talk about it later," she promised.

"There's nothing to talk about," Mara sniffed. "He's going to be a knight. I understand it is time-consuming and tiring, that's all." Alanna eyed her daughter warily, but left it alone. If the girl wanted to talk, she would. If there was one thing she had learned about her ten year old, it was that she could be very stubborn when she wished it.

**August 451**

"I'm _bored_." Alanna looked up from her book to see Mara standing there, arms folded firmly across her chest.

"It's barely noon!"

"So? I'm still _bored_."

Alanna sighed. "What would you like to do?"

"I don't know. _Give_ me something."

"Why don't you go talk to one of your aunts or uncles? Maybe they can give you something."

"Everyone's either busy or I can't find them." Alanna recalled that many of her adoptive family members had gone abroad to Carthak on a mission for the king. Emperor Ozorne had been giving Tortall some trouble, trouble Jonathan wished to eliminate before it escalated. All those close to him believed the man called the Emperor Mage may have opened the barrier between the Human and Divine Realms, unleashing immortals into their lives once again.

"Why don't you go find Duke Baird? His son is supposed to be helping him. Maybe you could spend some time with him."

"I suppose." Mara sighed. "I miss Jasson. Or, I miss how he was before he got so gods-cursed _boring_." She rolled her eyes and went off to find this son of Duke Baird.

* * *

_So, finally, the sequel! I have some plot ideas. Fun fact: this was started on my old laptop, and finished on my new one! I'm going to try to get another chapter up for you soon, but right now I'm trying to set the stage for what I want the majority of the action to be. Daine and Numair are both around, just for the record. Check the blog (linked in my profile) for updates! Thanks for reading._


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO**

**June 453**

As Mara walked back to her rooms from her lessons, she heard shouting. She knew it came from her parents' room, which must mean her father returned from six weeks with the King's Own. Part of her wanted to turn and run in the other direction, maybe to one of her friends, but she wanted to see her father. So she approached with caution, thankful for her flat shoes. The nearer she got, the louder the shouting became. She winced at her mother's harsh words. Alanna and Raoul have been fighting the same fight for as long as Mara could remember – he would rather stay far away from Court, while she enjoys being there. (When they visited her Uncle George at Pirate's Swoop, Raoul had a hard time swallowing his jealousy. Everyone saw how close Alanna and the former king of thieves were.) Mara's urge to turn and run in the other direction grew stronger, but her mother blew out of the room and stormed down the hall, nearly running into her daughter in the process.

"Mara!" Alanna's eyes were wide, with an odd combination of guilt and horror. "How long have you been standing here?"

"Long enough to hear you and da fighting again," Mara answered casually, shrugging her shoulders in an effort at teenage nonchalance. "Everything all right?"

"Fine." Alanna took a deep breath, trying to settle herself. "I just need some air, that's all. He's missed you. Go say hello." She continued down the hall, muttering something Mara couldn't – and didn't wish to – hear.

Mara knocked softly on the door. Her father looked up from his desk and smiled broadly. "Mara!" He opened his arms to allow her to leap into them. He spun her around. Sometimes she resented how often he went away, but she always loved when he came home. "How are you? You've grown!"

"No I haven't." She sighed and frowned down at her feet. "I think I'm all finished growing. How come I can't be tall like you?"

Raoul smiled and kissed the top of her head. "I think you're perfect." He sat back down, pulling a second chair for her. "What have you been up to recently?"

"Nothing, really." She folded her legs underneath her. "Everyone is trying to clean up after the war. But Neal started page training. Not that it matters, because I don't really see him."

"Training is time-consuming," her knight father reminded her gently.

"I _know_ that," she sighed. "But he tries to make time. But he has his own friends, so I don't always hang around. I don't really understand what they're talking about most of the time."

"I'm glad you're making friends. Do you ever see Jasson anymore?" Mara shook her head. In the three years since he began his training, the two drifted apart. Jasson always seemed to disapprove of what she did, and it bothered her.

"Tell me what _you've_ been doing!" Mara said, eyes shining. "Have you been keeping us noble ladies safe?"

Raoul laughed. "The noble ladies _I_ know best hardly need _me_ to keep them safe, but, yes. That and recruiting men." His eyes became distant as he remembered the men lost in the short war during the spring. Mara bit her lip and looked at her lap. She'd been sent to Pirate's Swoop, which hadn't seen as much action. She still resented it. "I have to leave again next week."

"What? You just got here!"

"I know." Raoul sighed and looked at the papers on his desk. "It's… complicated."

"I don't see what's so _complicated_ about it!" Mara jumped to her feet. "Just tell Uncle Jon you don't want to go! We never see you anymore. You and mama are always fighting about it. The whole _palace_ can hear you. Don't you like seeing us?"

"I love seeing you, Mara," Raoul said gently, holding her eyes steady. "But I have a job to do."

"Other people can do it," she told him bitterly. "Maybe not as well, but certainly not _badly._ You have a _family, _da! We're supposed to come before the rest of the country."

**October 456**

In honor of the Prince's sixteenth birthday, the king and queen held a massive celebration complete with a feast and ball. Mara tried to beg out of going – she claimed she had work to do, which she did, but not enough to warrant missing the festivities. "This is going to be so _boring_," she told Neal, in Corus for the celebrations.

"Cheer up, Mar," he said with a grin. "Maybe I'll get to dance with you this time."

"You always step on my toes," she countered. "Why would I want to be in pain in front of the whole court?"

He pressed a hand to his chest. "Ouch. You have wounded my fragile pride."

"You mean, time with Uncle Thom hasn't done that enough?" Neal glared at her. Thom, normally one of the instructors at the University, had agreed to spend some time traveling around the country so he could take a squire for the first time in his life. It was plain that Thom did not enjoy having a squire, especially not one as sharp-tongued as Neal. But the arrangement allowed Neal to have a University-quality education while still undergoing the knight training he chose.

"I hold out hope I'll be able to get out of it," Mara explained to her friend as they wandered the halls to the practice courts.

"And how are you going to arrange that?"

Mara gave him a triumphant grin. "My father's back, isn't he?"

"Oh, and you think he'll let you out of going Prince Jasson's birthday celebrations when _he_ has to go?" Neal laughed. "Good luck."

"I don't need luck." Mara fixed her violet eyes on him and fluttered her lashes. "All I need are these."

"Can I be there when he says no? I want to see your face."

Mara made a face at him. "If I had my mother's temper, I would scorch you."

"You _do_ have your mother's temper. And I'm too pretty to scorch."

"We'll see about that."

* * *

_I'm having some trouble hitting a stride with this, and finding Jasson and Mara's voices. Hope you enjoyed it anyway!_


	3. Chapter 3

**THREE**

_Before I start, a massive thank you to the ever-lovely Kara (.14karatgold.) for suggesting I explore Alanna and Raoul a bit to find a stride in the story. This chapter is for you._

Alanna wasn't entirely sure when her marriage began to fall apart. Things were fine when Mara was born, and even when she was a baby. Even when Raoul began spending more time away than at Court, Alanna didn't mind. She supposed it might have started when Mara wanted to spend time with her friends, not her mother. Mara's absence left Alanna with too much free time, and no Raoul to make her laugh. When she looked around, George lived at the Swoop, Thayet was busy being queen, Jonathan king, Gary advising, her brother setting up the university, and Buri trying to start Thayet's new Queen's Riders.

Sixteen years after having Mara, Alanna was bored. She was tired of waiting for Raoul, who didn't seem to pay her much attention anymore. "You'd rather romance your damn horse than me!" she shouted at him once. He laughed, not realizing she was serious. It was almost like he was married to the King's Own, rather than to her. She was certain that any woman would have a problem with her husband enjoying his job more than being with her. Frankly, it was insulting!

That was where George came in. Over the last several years, as Alanna and Raoul grew apart, she and George grew together. Whenever she visited the assistant spymaster, he kept her engaged and laughing. Being with George helped her to go back to her early days in Corus, when the world was her oyster and all the knights flocked to her and her friends. (The only one she still saw was Cythera, who lived at Court with her husband Gary. Alex kept watch over the eastern part of Tortall, and kept Delia with him.) With George, she learned to break codes. He never let her work on anything important – "you aren't my bride, lass" – but she liked having something to _do_ with herself. She often envied her daughter, learning how to heal. Sometimes Alanna debated forcing her brother to teach her, but she knew he would only laugh at her, and she didn't need him holding anything else over her head.

He loved her. Of course he loved her. He'd loved her since before he knew he could have her. She was his first love, and he couldn't believe his luck in hooking her. But as much as he loved her, how had he not seen their differences early? She liked being at Court; he would rather roam the world. Sure, she wanted to travel and have adventures, but not his kind of adventures. And, since Mara, she felt she had a responsibility to keep herself safe for their daughter (who longed for adventures of her own). As much as he wanted to make her happy, why did he have to compromise to do it? Unfortunately, they could not find a middle ground. No one in the world frustrated him quite like she did. His temper was slow, but not with her. Not recently.

Sometimes he wondered if she wasn't romantically involved with someone else. Most likely George, although he saw the glances that passed between her and Jon. He wanted desperately to believe that Jon would never cheat on Thayet, and Alanna would never betray him, but they knew how to carry on an affair in secret. Raoul never quite believed Alanna was over Jonathan, and something in the back of his mind told him she was settling for him. All he had to do was stand next to the king and it was plain: he couldn't hold a candle.

What in the world was he thinking, getting attached to her? She was married. (Not happily, but what did that matter?) She had a husband, and a daughter. There was nothing transitory about it. It was permanent. That was how things worked. It didn't matter how pretty she looked when she laughed, how well she had aged, the way the light sparkled in her violet eyes, the way she looked at him… none of that mattered, because nothing could ever come of it. Nothing _would _ever come of it. He may have once been a thief, but he lived on the proper side of the law now.

* * *

_We'll get to more story stuff next chapter, but this gives you an idea of what's going on for Alanna and Raoul. Again, many thanks to Kara, who has been a great friend and reviewer since the days when these were actually worth reading! (; Hope you all enjoyed it._


	4. Chapter 4

**FOUR**

This was easier when they were children.

Jasson of Conté, the fif—sixteen-year-old crown prince of Tortall, watched as his one-time best friend flitted around the great hall, engaging all sorts of people in conversation. It seemed she was no less fearless at fifteen than at five. He hadn't seen her in years, not really. Sure, they attended the same mandatory Court functions, but he always seemed to pass her by. She'd grown up well. She stood about five feet, five inches, and her figure slender but solid (clearly a trait passed to her by her enormous father). Her pale blue-violet gown suited her, as did the hairstyle that left strands of her dark red-brown hair framing her face. It was hard to miss her violet eyes, just as it was hard to miss her mother's. Jasson could say with the utmost confidence that his best friend from childhood had turned into a real beauty since they'd last spent any time together.

"Go say hello," his friend Cleon of Kennan urged, giving his shoulder a gentle push.

"She doesn't want to say hello to me," Jasson answered with a shrug. "We haven't spoken in years."

"That isn't hard to change." Jasson cast his friend a look. He shrugged. "Just a suggestion." They surveyed the room, looking for ladies to talk to. Jasson's eyes landed on Daine Sarrasri, who he wanted to talk to about his horse. The animal had just _felt_ wrong, but he couldn't place his finger on why. He knew Daine could find out almost instantly. He murmured an apology to Cleon and began to move toward the young woman.

"Have you said happy birthday to Jasson yet?" Alanna asked Mara when the girl found her again. Mara shook her head. "Go find him and wish him one."

"Why?" Mara whined. "There are plenty of people here who won't get to say personalized happy birthdays to him. How come I can't be one?"

"Because _they_ do not call his father 'Uncle Jon,'" Raoul chimed in, giving his daughter a hard look with his black eyes. "Now go."

Mara frowned at him. "I hate it when you two agree," she informed them, turning on her heel and maneuvering to find the prince. Alanna and Raoul exchanged a glance. They liked to pretend they kept Mara sheltered from their arguments, but it became a harder deception to maintain as she aged. Both secretly feared Mara would soon have questions neither of them felt comfortable addressing.

Mara moved as slowly as she could through the room, hoping to skirt Jasson and pretend she wished him a happy birthday. For all that they were once friends and she called his father "Uncle Jon," the last six years took a noticeable toll on their friendship. Once Jasson began page training, he possessed little time to spend with Mara, and was too tired in his free time to follow her around on adventures. She managed, making other friends and eventually starting at the Royal University, but she occasionally felt a pang for the friend she once knew. This Jasson bore little resemblance to the child who used to race around the palace with her, complaining about how they were going to get in trouble but never concerned enough to stop.

"Hello, Mara," a voice remarked. She turned and looked up into the warm eyes of Numair Salmalín, one of the king's best mages and one of her teachers. She inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Now she had an excuse for not going to wish Jasson a happy birthday.

"Hello, Numair." She grinned. "Are you enjoying the party?"

"I am," he answered, casting an approving eye around the room. "Are you?"

She shrugged. "It's all right, I suppose."

"Ah, to be young again," he sighed.

"This has nothing to do with my _age_," she informed him. "These Court things are just so… _stuffy_. Even da thinks so. Although," she added quickly, "maybe he's not the best measure of that sort of thing."

Numair laughed. "You won't offend me by saying it's stuffy. Prince Jasson on the other hand…" His voice drifted off as he glanced over to where Jasson stood talking to Daine Sarrasri, Numair's… well, no one knew quite what to call their relationship.

"Oh, I wouldn't want _that_. I wouldn't want to get in _trouble_."

"Since when do you avoid trouble, Mara of Goldenlake?"

Her violet eyes twinkled. "If you'll excuse me, Master Salmalín, I have strict instructions from my parents to wish the Prince a happy birthday." She bobbed an appropriately deep curtsy. Numair shook his head as she glided off. No one could doubt Mara's parentage after spending any amount of time with the young girl.

As Mara approached Daine and Jasson, their conversation ended and Jasson turned to walk away from the young woman many called the Wildmage. His blue eyes widened when they caught sight of Mara coming nearer. He stopped, sure from the intent look in her eyes that she meant to speak to him. When she stopped three feet from him and curtsied deeply, he was sure. "Your Highness," Mara said, rising slowly and without wobbling. Jasson admired her control. He remembered vividly how often she fell over while learning that particular curtsy.

"Lady Mara," he said, inclining his head formally. There was a time when they never bothered with such formalities.

"Happy birthday," she offered with a small smile. "You're halfway through being a squire, right?" He nodded. "You must be excited to become a knight."

"I am," he said. "You're finishing University soon, correct?"

"Sort of," she answered with a smile. "I doubt I'm as eager to finish as you are."

He frowned. "Why would you say that?"

"No reason," she shrugged. "Well, I should probably get back to my parents…" She turned to leave, but Jasson grabbed her wrist. Mara looked down at his hand and then into his blue eyes. They had not spent nearly enough time together in the last six years for that gesture to be appropriate. He dropped her wrist. "Yes?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in mild annoyance.

"Can't we talk?" he asked. "It's been such a long time since we last spoke."

"Actually, it's been a matter of moments." Mara crossed her arms over her chest. "But I assume that isn't what you meant."

"No, it isn't." Jasson sighed. "I miss you, Mara."

"Really?" She laughed. "You could have fooled me. It's been _years_, Jasson. You _abandoned_ me."

"I did not."

"You did! You started training—" she stopped. "We aren't doing this here. It's your birthday. I don't want to ruin it." She curtsied again. "Happy birthday again, Jasson." This time he let her leave, watching her back as she scurried away.

"How did it go?" Alanna asked her daughter when she returned to where Alanna and Raoul stood.

"Did you two talk while I was gone?" Mara countered, looking between her parents. "Because standing here not talking is really stupid."

"I take it your encounter didn't go well then?" Raoul asked cheerily. Mara gave him a glare so reminiscent of Alanna that Raoul actually had to check that it was his daughter who gave him the look and not his wife.

"What happened, Mara?" Alanna asked gently.

"Nothing happened. Everything's fine. But can we all just stop clinging to the hope that Jasson and I are ever going to be friends again? Because it's been six years and I'm tired of it."

"Mara. What happened?" Now even Raoul looked concerned.

She turned dark violet eyes on him. "Gee, I don't know. Maybe if you'd been _around_—"

"Mara!" Alanna snapped. "Stop it." She took Raoul's hand. "He doesn't deserve that."

"There's no need to protect me, Alanna," Raoul said coolly, giving her a grateful smile. He met his daughter's eyes. "I know what happened between you and Jasson, Mara. I do _listen_ when you talk to me. I was asking what happened _recently_, because you seem upset."

"Maybe this isn't the time or place," Alanna murmured. She locked eyes with her daughter. "We will discuss this later, after the party, yes?"

"Are you going to make me?"

"Yes," her parents answered together, exchanging a smile.

"Oh, gods," she muttered. "Go back to fighting, will you?" She rolled her eyes and walked off in search of someone else to talk to.

* * *

Somewhere in the Divine Realms, the Great Mother Goddess looked down at the cat constellation that often accompanied her, when he wasn't bound to his constellation or roaming around with humans. _It seems things have gone a bit awry,_ the cat said.

"Do you want to go help?" the Goddess asked, a smile playing on her lips.

_May I? I've been confined here for so long. You promised I'd get to go years ago._

"Yes, I'm afraid that got a bit away from me as well."

_That doesn't sound like you._

"Well." The Goddess inspected her long, red fingernails. "I've been… distracted."

_That doesn't sound like you either._

"I have a lot of responsibilities," she reminded the cat constellation. "You, on the other hand…"

_Is that my clue to find a way to meet Mara of Goldenlake?_

The Goddess smiled and stroked his back. "I always knew you were a smart cat."

The cat meowed. _I assume I'll hear from you when you want me to return?_

"Don't you always?" she asked sweetly.

_There was that one time, with Be—_

"Don't you have somewhere to be?"

The cat swished his dark tail and disappeared.

* * *

_It has been over a year since I updated this… sorry! I got a few reviews lately and it made me want to explore it again. So we'll see what happens. I just started the new semester at college, so this is probably a bad time to start writing again… Everything thought "I hate it when you two agree" was written in 2010. The rest was just written, while I sit here with "Summer Is Over" by Jon McLaughlin and Sara Bareilles on repeat. Hope you enjoyed!_


	5. Chapter 5

**FIVE**

_Six months later._

As Mara walked the corridor between her room and that of her parents, she saw several groups of servants scurrying away, giggling and whispering. Concerned, she increased her pace. Halfway down the hall from her destination, she could hear shouting. _Not again._ Lifting the hem of her skirts, she ran the rest of the distance. "Stop it!" she yelled, throwing open the door and slamming it shut behind her. "Don't you know people can _hear_ you?" She flicked the fire of her Gift into the corners of the room to prevent more people from overhearing. Alanna and Raoul of Goldenlake looked at her, wide-eyed. "Are you not even pretending anymore? Do you not _care_ you overhears you fighting like this?" She looked between them. "Not that it much matters, because everyone is talking about you. But you're too busy fighting to notice! They've got you both in bed with other people, you know. The whole _palace_ is talking about it. I've had strangers come up and ask me how I feel about my mother and the king!" She let her words sink in for a minute. "And I'm sick of it. If you two don't love each other anymore, then just go… be happy with someone else. Stop fighting and stop pretending like you're keeping it from me because I _know._ I've heard you fighting for years and it's always the same thing. It's getting tedious and it isn't doing any of us any good. So just… stop it. Be adults and work something out before I have to!" She drew back her Gift and went to leave. "You should ward the room next time," she told her mother. "I know you know how." With that, Mara left, letting the door close itself loudly behind her.

Meanwhile, Jasson was on his way to find Raoul for his father. Not far from the room, Mara nearly ran him over. "Whoa!" he said, putting out his hands so she wouldn't run into him.

"Oh, Goddess." Mara stopped short, looking startled. "Sorry, Jasson." She paused a moment before bobbing a curtsey.

He smiled at her. "There's no need to curtsey, Mara. You know that."

"Sorry." She glanced over her shoulder. "If you'll excuse me."

"Are you all right?" he asked, searching her face.

"Fine." Mara flashed him a smile. "I just need some fresh air, that's all."

"You don't _look_ all right."

"Very perceptive. Now _if_ you will excuse me."

"Mara, what's going on?"

"It's really none of your business."

"_Tell_ me."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you _commanding_ me, _Your Highness_?"

"No. I'm asking as a _friend_."

She snorted. "We're not friends."

"Well we _were_." He glanced down the hall. "If I leave you for a second, can you wait? I need to deliver a message for my father."

"Are you going to command me to stay?"

"No." He gave her a serious look. "Please, Mara? I want to make sure you're all right."

"Fine," she sighed, folding her arms over her chest. "Better make it fast, though."

As he head off on his errand for the king, Mara leaned against the wall and considered the encounter with her parents. _No sixteen year old should have to yell at their parents like that,_ she thought, wondering where things had gone so wrong for them. Everyone assured her that Raoul and Alanna loved each other at one point, but she couldn't remember a time when they weren't fighting about _something._ It seemed as if the good moments happened between the bad ones, but never seemed to balance out. Part of her wondered if her birth started the slow decline of their marriage, and as she aged, it became worse, which would explain her complete lack of memories of a better time. She thought to the rumours she heard about her mother and the king and her mother and her Uncle George. She knew Alanna maintained close relationships with both men, but Mara doubted her mother would have an affair, especially not with the _king_. Before she had time to contemplate why half the Court had her mother in bed with her Uncle Jon, Jasson returned.

"Let's go talk," he said, offering her his arm. She gave him a look and started down the hall. "Do you have to do that?"

"Do what?" She held her hands innocently behind her back. "I'm not doing anything."

"You're freezing me out," he told her. "You did it at my party and you're doing it now."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I hurting your feelings?" She rolled her eyes. "Please. Consider it payback for all the times you blew me off."

"About that. When did I _abandon_ you?"

"If you can't figure it out on your own, _I'm_ certainly not telling you."

"Mara. Stop it."

"Is that a command?"

"Will you stop?" Jasson abruptly came to a stop. Mara turned to look at him. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

"You!" she snapped. "You think we can just go back to being friends? You want me to act like you haven't _ignored_ me for the better part of the last _six years_? I don't care _who_ you are, Jasson. I can't just _erase_ all that!"

"Why does it matter to you so much 'who I am?' You never cared before."

"We were _kids_."

"So? Nothing's changed."

"Yes it has! We're practically adults now, Jasson. We have _responsibilities_. You'll be a knight in a few years and I'm in mage training…"

"But why does it _matter_ who I am? I don't understand, Mara."

"Because you weren't the _heir_ before!" Jasson started to say something, but she cut him off. "I mean, you were, but it didn't _feel_ like it. You were just _Jasson_. And then you started page training and it became really clear to me who you were and who you were expected to be and…" She shrugged. "It was beyond me. You grew up so _fast_, Jasson. I was still being a kid and doing kid things and you had all these duties. You left me behind."

"We're older now," he said, stepping closer to her. "You're not like that anymore."

"It doesn't change the fact that it happened." She smiled at him sadly. "Those years still happened. We're different people now."

"We're not _that_ different," he insisted.

"We _are_, though."

"How do you know? We haven't been friends in years."

"Exactly." He gave her a puzzled look. "The Jasson I knew when I was six wouldn't have let us grow apart like this. He'd have _tried_."

"I was _busy_—"

"Yeah, and how many times did I interrupt your lessons when we were kids?"

"It was different then! It didn't matter as much."

"See? You're the _heir_ now, Jasson. I don't know if I can deal with that."

"I'm not asking you to deal with the _heir_, Mara. I'm asking you to be my _friend_."

"They're one in the same."

"They _aren't_." He took her hands. "And if you'll give me a chance, I'll prove it to you."

She looked down at her hands and pulled them away. "Fine. You can try."

"Do you promise to keep an open mind?"

"I _always_ keep an open mind." He raised an eyebrow. "I do!"

"All right, Mara. Whatever you say." She laughed as he offered her his arm again. This time, she took it. "Now will you tell me what's wrong?"

"Let's get out the palace, and then… we'll see." She saw something move in the shadows. "What's that?" Mara bent over to see a small black kitten staring up at her with big violet eyes. "Goddess!" she breathed. "Jasson, _look_."

He came to stand beside her. "Are cats supposed to have eyes like that?"

"I don't think so." The kitten mewed and moved closer. "Have you ever seen it before?"

"No, and I think I'd remember a cat like that. Why don't we take it to Daine? See if she knows?"

"Sure." Mara scooped the cat up and gently stroked its head. "You're pretty," she told him. The cat mewed in approval.

"Are you already getting attached?" Jasson asked as they started down the hall.

"Maybe." She smiled at him. "You might have to help me with him, though."

"Him?"

Mara raised an eyebrow. "Do _you_ want to check?"

"Not particularly." They continued down the corridor in silence. "What are you thinking of naming him?"

"Not sure yet." She gave him a wicked smile. "Maybe I'll call him 'Jasson.'"

"You're funny."

"You're the one who wanted to be friends with me."

"Maybe I'll reconsider."

"After all the work you did trying to convince me? Never."

* * *

_Look, I updated in less than a year! I've got a lot to do this semester, so I'm not promising these updates are going to be close together, but I do now have a plan that I'm pretty excited about for this story. Reviews are appreciated, especially ones containing constructive remarks. Thanks for reading, everyone!_


	6. Chapter 6

**SIX**

Daine, who made it her personal business to know every animal and who it belonged to in the palace, swore she never laid eyes on the purple-eyed creature before. "Do you want it?" Mara offered the Wildmage, who cared for several animals of her own and worried about the rest. Much to her surprise, Daine shook her head.

"Numair says he feels like he lives in a menagerie," she said with a smile. "Besides, it isn't every day a cat has purple eyes." The kitten looked up at Daine, who met his eyes and nodded. Mara and Jasson exchanged a glance. Once a person spent any amount of time around the Wildmage, they grew used to her silent conversations with animals. "He likes you," Daine told Mara. "You should keep him."

"I don't know how to take care of a cat!" she insisted.

Daine laughed. "It isn't hard." The young woman spent the following two hours showing the Mara and the Prince how to care for the cat. When Jasson tried to beg off, Mara gave him such a nasty look he feared for his safety. "Always a good idea to have backup when caring for an animal," Daine remarked when Jasson sat back down, eyeing Mara warily. Daine gave him a reassuring smile.

"I suppose we should name him," Mara said as they left Daine's room later on, the kitten sitting on her shoulder. "Any suggestions?"

"What name would be fitting for such a unique creature?" Jasson gently pet the cat, which made contented noises.

"It's a _cat_, Jasson. There's no need to flatter him. He can't understand you."

"I try to stay on the right side of all the people _and animals_ I encounter," the Prince informed her. "It's something you might want to consider trying." Mara just rolled her eyes at him. As they wound their way back through the halls and corridors, they discussed possible names for the kitten, which seemed perfectly happy to remain on Mara's shoulder all day long. Jasson had a point – it was difficult to determine a name for such a startling animal. Nothing quite seemed to fit the impact of his presence.

"We can't even call him Kitten," Mara complained, "because that's what everyone calls Daine's _dragon_."

"You aren't _really_ complaining about there being a dragon in the palace, are you?" Jasson wanted to know, raising an eyebrow at her.

"_No_," Mara answered, her tone conveying the opposite response. "It would just make our lives easier if we could call him Kitten."

"Call who Kitten?" Raoul asked, appearing from a side hall. Mara coloured. "Hello, Mara. Jasson." He inclined his head in a sign of respect for the Prince, who returned the gesture.

"Hello, father," she answered. Jasson looked at Mara, surprised by her behaviour. Mara and her parents were closer than any other family he knew. He wondered if it had anything to do with her nearly running into him earlier.

"Mara found a kitten," Jasson answered the large knight.

"Did she?" Raoul turned his dark eyes to Mara. "May I see?" Mara turned to show him the small black animal seated on her shoulder. "Mithros!" he breathed, leaning forward. "Are its eyes…" He looked at his daughter, who nodded.

"We were trying to come up with a name," she explained. "But nothing seemed to fit."

"Blackie," Raoul answered confidently.

"That's stupid," Mara informed him. "Please tell me you aren't serious."

"My father's first horse was called Darkness," Jasson reminded her. "And he was black."

"Yeah, but 'Darkness' is a lot more creative than 'Blackie.'" Mara shook her head. "I don't want to name him something _silly_. He deserves a proper name."

"Raoul is a good one," her father said with a smile, causing his daughter to roll her eyes. "I'm sure you'll come up with something appropriate."

"Eventually, I assume," she murmured, leaning her head gently against her new companion. "Where are you off to?"

"Orders from the king," he explained. "We're riding out."

"Again?" Mara glanced down at the ground. "Have you told mother yet?"

"Not yet." The three stood in an uncomfortable silence. "Oh, Jasson. Your father was looking for you."

"Then I should go!" the Prince said, a bit too enthusiastically. "I'll see you later, Mara?"

"Sure," she said, giving him a small smile. "Later." Jasson gave Raoul a concerned look before heading off down the corridor. "Are you two going to fight again?"

"I hope not." Raoul offered her his arm. "This morning was quite enough for my liking." As they walked in the direction of his rooms, he glanced at the cat. "You know, I've heard sorcerers are supposed to have familiars," he remarked. "Maybe you were supposed to find this cat."

"Don't be ridiculous," Mara scoffed. "You act as if I'm special or something."

"You are special." He kissed the side of her head.

Mara gave him a look. "You have to say that."

"Maybe." He grinned at her. "But I still mean it."

* * *

Many people had similar reactions upon seeing Mara's new pet, but none were as startling as Alanna's. Later that evening, when Alanna finally met the kitten, she nearly fell over, unable to take her eyes from the creature. "Are you all right?" Mara asked, frowning.

Alanna nodded. "Fine, fine. Perfectly fine." She cleared her throat. "Do you know what you're going to name him?"

"Not yet," Mara told her, petting him. "Uncle Jon suggested 'Faithful.'" Her mother choked on her own spit. "Are you _sure_ you're all right?"

"Fine, fine." Alanna coughed. "Excuse me a moment." She left the room, leaving her daughter staring after her, wondering if all the fighting might be driving her mother insane.

Several minutes later, Alanna burst into the king's study. Jonathan looked up from the report he was reading, eyebrows raised. "Good evening Alanna. Can I help you with something?" Alanna shut the door firmly and warded the room. "This must be important." Jonathan sat back in his chair and indicated she should take the seat across from his desk. "What's wrong?"

"Do you remember, years ago, when I told you about those dreams I had? Of another life?"

"The one where you were a knight?" the king asked with a smile. "I remember. It's kind of hard to forget a thing like that. Why?"

"There was a cat," she said, absently playing with her necklace, a gift from Mara for her birthday several years previously. "A small black cat with purple eyes." Jonathan raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. "Named Faithful."

"Are you sure?" he asked, leaning forward.

Alanna nodded. "A purple-eyed cat isn't an easy thing to forget," she admitted with a smile.

"Mara and Jasson just found—"

Alanna nodded. "And Mara said you suggested she call him Faithful." Jonathan frowned down at his desk. "Maybe it's a coincidence. I haven't had dreams in _years_. But a purple-eyed cat with violet eyes?" She looked down at her lap. "I'm scared for her."

"Speak to Daine," he said. "Quietly, and alone." Alanna gave him a questioning look. "She and Numair were in the Realms of the Gods, if you recall. She may know something more."

Alanna rose. "Thank you, Jonathan. And please—"

"Don't tell anyone?" He smiled and stood. "I haven't told a soul all these years, Alanna. I'm not about to start now." They exchanged a smile and Alanna went to leave. "Alanna?"

"Mm?" She turned around, hand on the doorknob.

"Don't worry too much about her. She's a strong girl." Alanna nodded. "Even if there is a connection to your dreams… do you doubt that Mara could become a knight?"

Alanna paused, looking down at the ground before meeting Jonathan's eyes. "I remember what happened in those dreams, Jonathan. If that's what's in her future…"

"She'll be fine," Jonathan promised. "Think of her, and her friends…"

"Maybe you're right." Alanna pulled the violet fire back to her. "Thank you, Jon."

"Any time, Alanna." As the lady of Goldenlake slipped out, Jonathan slowly lowered himself back into his chair, frowning. He did not know much about Alanna's dreams all those years ago, only that she saw him propose to her. It left him much to consider.

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed this update! I'm really happy with it, especially because I was happy with it the FIRST time I wrote it, not the third or fourth. I'll leave you to theorize, because I already know where all of this is leading. I appreciate you sticking with this story in spite of the year and a half long wait between updates, and the irregular ones that will inevitably follow. _


	7. Chapter 7

**SEVEN**

In the months that followed, Jasson and Mara rekindled their former friendship, easily falling into a new routine. During the day, Jasson performed his duties as his father's squire while Mara attended her courses at the University, usually meeting for lunch. After dinner, the teenagers explored the palace and the surrounding lands, passing the boundaries set for their childhood selves. Faithful followed everywhere they went, causing their parents to joke that the cat was keeping an eye on the duo. Rumours inevitably circulated about the Prince's intentions with his close friend, ones Jonathan, Thayet, Alanna, and Raoul sought to silence. "They're friends," one would say with a shrug. "They haven't spoken in some time." Even so, their parents enjoyed seeing the friendship return.

"I never see you anymore," Neal complained to Mara one afternoon, blocking her path in the hallway. "Have I been replaced?"

"Never," she promised with a smile.

"For a fear the Prince has supplanted me in your affections." Neal grabbed her hand and pressed it to his chest. "How it hurts my heart, Lady Mara! Can you not feel it break?"

"Does Uncle Thom let you be this silly?" she asked, taking her hand back. "I can't imagine he tolerates it."

Neal smiled impishly. "I save it for moments when I am alone."

"We are still talking about your silliness, I hope."

"Of course." Neal slung an arm around her shoulders. "So where are we off to today, fair maiden?"

She removed his arm. "_I_ am off to see Jasson. I don't know where _you_ are going."

"Can't I come? I know the Prince."

"You may _know_ him, but does he _like_ you?"

"_Everyone_ likes me," Neal replied with a huff. "How dare you insinuate otherwise!"

"If I offend you, will you leave me alone?"

"Why, Lady Mara." Neal's eyes glittered in a wicked way she unfortunately recognized. "Do you wish to be _alone_ with His Highness?" Her friend waggled his eyebrows.

"_No_," she answered. "_You're_ just being annoying."

"It never bothered you _before_."

"Yes, well, I've grown up."

Neal snorted. "I'll believe that when I see it." He tossed his hair. "I can see when I am not wanted. I shall find my valiant knight-master and see if he requires my assistance."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Mara told him. "Roger's just returned from his trip to the City of the Gods."

Neal shuddered. "I will find something else to do then. Perhaps I will wait a week."

"That might be best." Mara grinned. "We'll spend time together soon. I promise."

"I will hold you to that," he warned, kissing her hand. "Farewell, sweet lady."

She swept a dramatic curtsy. "My lord." Mara watched her friend as he walked down the hall, shaking his head. _What was that?_ a voice inquired. Mara looked down at Faithful, who she discovered sometimes chose to allow her to understand his sounds as speech.

"That was Neal," she informed the cat. "Can't you hear?"

_Aren't you charming,_ he drawled.

Mara rolled her eyes. "You could leave, you know. _I'm_ not holding you here. And that was just Neal being Neal. Why?"

_No reason._ Faithful trotted ahead. _Are you coming? You aren't supposed to keep princes waiting, you know._

"I _refuse_ to take etiquette lessons from a _cat_," she muttered.

_Then stop forgetting the ones you've been taught._

* * *

"What have I missed?" Roger of Conté asked, reclining back in his favourite chair and allowing his dressing gown to fall open.

"Not much," Thom of Trebond replied, pouring them each a cup of lemonade. He smiled. "Unless you're looking for gossip."

"You listen to gossip?" Roger raised an eyebrow at the younger man, surprised even after all their years together.

Thom shrugged. "When my sister is involved."

"Again?" Roger shook his head. "I thought she grew out of that years ago."

"As did I." Thom sipped his lemonade. "Unfortunately, rumours about her and Jonathan's relationship have been circulating again." Roger made a non-committal noise, and Thom went on, "It's unfortunate, given Mara and Jasson's friendship."

"I thought they weren't speaking." Roger ran a finger around the rim of his cup.

"They weren't." Thom shrugged. "Things change."

"Is there talk of their marriage?"

"Jasson cannot speak to a lady these days without someone wondering if she'll be the next queen," Thom answered, shaking his head. "He's too young for such talk."

"Some marry at sixteen," Roger reminded him.

"Not if that someone is the sole heir to the throne." Thom sighed. "Can we change the subject? I feel odd gossiping. That's my sister's territory."

Roger smiled. "Of course." Thom began to explain some of his own research, but Roger was only half listening.

* * *

_More or less a throwaway. I'm trying to figure out how to take this story where I want it to go. I'm also suffering a little because I don't have copies of the books here at school. I have ebook versions, but those are a little harder for me to navigate than my physical copies. Hope you enjoyed._


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